Tag Archives: damage

And the work continued….

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Day two of roof repair was not without its pitfalls.

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And Lord Dudley Mountcatten kept a close eye on the progress.

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Yes that’s a giant copper and silver cicada on my coffee table. You mean you don’t have one…? How strange.

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The weather that morning was awful.

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Rain, wind and colder than average temps. Work didn’t even start until 10:00am.

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At times it seemed like the black clouds were aiming right for them.

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But progress was made in between the showers and I was glad to see the gap in the problem corner was tightly covered with ice and water shield. A gerry rigged solution to be sure, but an improvement none the less. Had this been done the day before (as I requested, repeatedly) our ceiling wouldn’t look like this:

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But I’m just a woman. What do I know?

😡

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But what do I know?

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I don’t claim to know everything, but I do know if you’re going to strip a roof for repairs during a weekend when rain is predicted? You postpone or make damn sure you cover that sucker completely.

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My husband on the other hand, likes to gamble.

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And as you can see by what I woke up to Saturday morning…

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He lost. ( Unplug the tv and move the table? Why… when you can just cover it with trash bags? It’s times like these I question my love for that man.)

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And while I would normally enjoy a good I told you so and being right….

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The utter disaster that is our ceiling took the joy right out of it.

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The kegorator arrival, and sadly… it’s departure.

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Why is nothing ever easy for us?

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After searching far and wide for a kegorator and coming up empty (thanks again for making everyone housebound alcoholics Covid 19) we broke down and ordered one on Amazon.

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Yay! Fresh beer would soon be flowing from dual taps.

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Boo.

The box was in rough shape when UPS delivered, the protective packaging broken. And when we tore off all the wrapping?

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The right rear side was dented and the access plate bowed out.

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Had it just been cosmetic I wouldn’t have cared, but the damage was right near the motor and something was rattling.

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So back it goes.

Damn it!

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Water is life.

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And if you doubt the veracity of that statement, try living without it for a few days like we are.

Bright and early Wednesday morning, 3 men were in deep thought.

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The man on the ground is our wonderful neighbor who brought over his toy to dig a hole.

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A hole was dug.

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A wet and muddy hole filled with water from a broken pipe.

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More deep thinking was called for.

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The ‘let’s put wood in the hole filled with water so we can stand on it‘ idea did not work out as planned. Color me surprised.

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Youngest member of the team was sent down in hole anyway. (Please note he is a master plumber who planned ahead for the avoidance of butt crack photos, for which I was quite thankful.)

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The broken pipe was found and luckily it was right next to the well access so we didn’t have to tear up more lawn or the house foundation.

Solution to the problem? Bypass the existing two pipe configuration, get rid of our not that old damn it! interior water pump system…

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And install an exterior submersible pump made of stainless steel. This meant pulling up the existing water line that runs down into the well… and since that cover hadn’t been opened since 1974?

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It was not an easy job. And when things don’t come apart easily?

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It’s time for the sledgehammer.

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A whole lotta pulling followed.

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I never knew how far down our well was before this.

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But apparently it’s slightly over 90 feet.

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Young guy was sent down into the hole again.

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And of course because this is a job at our house, nothing went right or smoothly.

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Since the old pipe was cracked, it had sucked in copious amounts of dirt and sand that had to be flushed before the wire to the new pump could be pushed through to the house. Nothing worked. Trips were taken back and forth to the plumber’s shop for different tools. Trips were taken to hardware stores for extra supplies and finally… after an entire afternoon of battling… they broke through. Only to move on to the next step and realize a different size pump needed to be ordered.

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To be honest, I wasn’t either. Welcome to my world … please bring alcohol.

So a less than wonderful Wednesday ended like this: open water lines actively pissing muddy water from the flooded hole into our cellar.

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And notes like this pasted all around our house.

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No drinking water, no toilet flushing water, no using dishes and glasses you have to wash… and worst of all, no shower.

Still don’t think water is life? Try not showering for 3 days and get back to me.

To be continued…

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A little drip now and then….

 

Leaking roof saga continued.

Winter is the worst possible time in Maine for your roof to spring a leak … so of course, that’s exactly what’s happened.

Remember when I said I’d cringe every time it rains?

 

 

That’s the sound of me cringing.

It poured the other day… and so did our ceiling.

 

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So much so I had to add another pan.

Which drove the husband nuts when he came home…. and because he’s a man and had to do something?

 

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Yeah. He decided to climb up into the attic to see where it was leaking.

Naturally this isn’t as easy as climbing a set of stairs… because no.

Here at Casa River, we like a challenge.

 

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The den closet, home to an overflow of the husband’s useless crap  treasure.

(Yes, he collects old wooden hangers. Don’t you?)

 

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Half of one side had to be emptied and strewn all over the room….

 

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Because the only way to access the crawl space we call an attic is to remove all the shelving and climb up a hole at the top of the closet.

 

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A design paradigm we curse the builders for quite often.

 

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It’s a bit of a nightmare getting up there.

 

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And no, the husband didn’t appreciate me making a Kodak moment out of the experience.

 

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He wasn’t thrilled that I stuck my head up through the hole to offer advice either.

Men. There’s no pleasing you.

 

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But look… I found an antenna from the 1970’s!

 

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Did I mention there’s no actual floor up there? Just a few scattered pieces of particle board that break when you kneel on them.

 

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So after scuttling around like a crab and lying on his back…

 

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And pointing his flashlight near the section of the roof of the addition you can’t access from the crawl space, he did find where the water was coming in. Halfway up the peak, and running down the beams…. which we can find absolutely no reason for.

 

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Doesn’t this look like fun?

 

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Especially since there’s not a damned thing you can do about it until spring when you can rip off the shingles to find the bad spot.

 

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Meanwhile I’ll have this lovely and ever expanding wart to look at.

And every time I do?

I hear a cash register.

Ka-ching!